Secret
by girlinterrupted22
Summary: The story of how it really was for Allison, and how she tried to hold on to her life.  I can't summarize anymore without spoilers.  Do not read this if you haven't read the first eight books!
1. Erased and Replaced

"Give it back!"

My diary fluttered through the air above Courtney's head. I perched on tip toe and lunged for it, just as she yanked it away. Raising an eyebrow at me, she shook her head and winked.

"Give it BACK!" I screamed. "You don't get to be a part of this, Courtney. You don't get to be a part of my life anymore. It's mine. MINE!"

Courtney laughed, a quiet chuckle that drew even more tension into the already overflowing room. "Oh, Allison." Her tone was almost pitying. "Ali."

I took a step towards her, but she shifted backwards towards the door with the diary carefully behind her back.

"I hope I get to talk to Ian today," teased Courtney, her voice taking on a singsong quality. With another step backwards, she was out the bedroom door and into hallway. "I think he was jealous of me and my Time Capsule flag."

"How much did you READ?" I squealed, swiping at her again in another feeble attempt to get my private thoughts back into my possession. "You BELONG in that mental hospital! I can't wait until they take you away today! I never want to see you again!"

Turning away from me, she disappeared so quickly down the stairs that it was almost like she flew. I ran into the kitchen right on her heels, but she stopped so suddenly that I almost crashed into her. Looking down, I saw my diary in the sink.

"I could destroy this all right now. Just like I destroyed your stupid time capsule flag." Courtney taunted. She pulled the flag out of her pocket and waved it at me. There was a big, ugly wishing well in the middle of it, ruining all of the artwork I had so carefully drawn. "I'll wreck the diary too. I know how much it means to you."

"Don't!" I cried.

"Do-on't!" she mimicked, almost screeching. Pushing me away from the sink, she reached for the water faucet with her free hand.

"Stop it!" I cried, diving under her arm to grab the notebook.

"Stop it!" she echoed, grabbing the back cover.

We wrestled over the diary for a few seconds before the door from the living room slammed open, crashing into the front of the china cabinet with an unsettling thud. Glass from the cabinet rained down on the floor as our brother, Jason, screamed, "Enough!" Snatching the diary and the flag away from us, he asked, "Whose is this?"

"Mine," I whispered, hurt that he would even think I might have started the fight.

"Here." He slammed it against my chest. To Courtney he said, "Just go upstairs and leave Ali alone. Now I remember why you're never home. You two are sisters. Why can't you just act like it?" Shaking his head with disgust, he stormed out the back door with my flag without even bothering to tie his shoes.

Courtney picked at the skin around her thumb. "I don't get it," she whispered. "I don't understand why they all love you more. They always have. It isn't fair."

I didn't know what to say. My left hand automatically drifted to twist the ring I always wore on my right pointer finger, but it wasn't there. "I'm going to my room," I mumbled. As I went back into my room and turned the light on. The back door opened below me, and Courtney went outside. She scared me a little, and she always had. When we were little, she would pretend to be me all the time. In fact, she had wanted to be me so much that she tried to drown me in the swimming pool. After that, our parents sent her away to a hospital where they were supposed to be helping her get better. I tried to pretend like she didn't exist, but it was hard sometimes. She was my twin after all.

I threw the diary on my bed and dug around on the dresser looking for the ring. It was silver, and had a letter A engraved on it. I wore it all the time, only taking it off when I went to sleep at night. Our parents had gotten them for us when we were younger, an A for me and a C for Courtney. I always assumed it was because they couldn't tell us apart.

"Courtney?" my mom called from down the hall. "It's time to go!"

My hand closed on a ring, and I slid it on to my finger without even looking at it. "Mom," I called into the hall. "She's outside."

My mom appeared in the door. She looked me up and down and then said, "It's time to go, Courtney."

"Mom, it's me," I corrected. "Ali. Can't you tell the difference?" I rolled my eyes and turned to go back in my room.

My mom shook her head slowly, almost looking like she was going to cry. Grabbing me by the elbow, she steered me over to the window. "I know this is hard for you, but Ali is outside with her friends, sweetheart."

I shook my head, "Those aren't my friends, mom, they're just some stupid girls from school. I don't know why they're…"

"No, Courtney." She pulled me away from the window. "No. It's time to go." She snapped off my light.

I grabbed onto the door frame, trying to stop her momentum as she tugged me out the door. "No! Mom! Listen! It's me! Allison! I promise! Look at my ring!" I thrust it into her face, realizing my mistake too late to take it back. Big fat tears rolled down my cheeks as I realized what trouble I was in.

My mother's gaze took in the large C engraved onto my ring. Sighing, she called for my father. "Kenneth? Can you come help Courtney into the car? I need to go let Allison and Jason know we're leaving."

"No!" I screamed, using all of my body weight to push back into the room. My dad appeared, taking my arm in a death grip and dragging me down the stairs. Ignoring all my protests, he shoved me into the back of our champagne colored Mercedes. "You know we have to do this, Courtney," he whispered, slamming the door in my face as I wailed and beat against the car windows. I screamed as loudly as I could, but no one would listen to me. It was like I wasn't even there anymore. In a way, I wasn't. Ali had been erased and replaced.


	2. The Preserve

My parents drove away without saying much more than goodbye to me, leaving me standing in the lobby of the new hospital with suitcases of stuff that didn't even belong to me. Courtney's stuff. No matter how much I protested, yelled until my throat was so sore I almost couldn't talk anymore, my parents still refused to believe who I really was. It made sense in a small way. Pretending to be me had always been Courtney's game.

"Hello, Courtney," a nurse said, taking the handle of one of my suitcases.

"My name is Allison," I answered stonily.

"My name is Gail. We're happy to have you here," she continued as if I hadn't even spoken. Ignoring me just like my parents had. She guided me with one hand and steered my suitcase with the other, reaching up to put a card through the card reader. With a nudge we were through the automatic doors, and they closed slowly behind us. We walked down a long hallway, stopping in front of a door marked 31. "This will be your room," Gail said, unlocking the door. "Only you, your roommate, and the guards will have the key that opens this door. At the Preserve, we believe that you should still have a measure of privacy."

The door swung open, revealing a room with two beds, two desks, two closets, and a huge picture window that overlooked the front driveway. I sat down on the bed without responding to her privacy comment.

"Now, Courtney, we will need to search you and all of your things. Just to make sure that you haven't brought anything that we would consider…contraband."

"Allison," I corrected. "And didn't you just say you wanted us to have privacy? How is searching me giving me privacy?" I realized that my voice had taken on a somewhat snooty tone, but I didn't really care.

"There's line between privacy and safety," she stated, once again ignoring the name correction. "In order to give you the privacy, we have to start you with a baseline of safety." Another nurse entered the room through the open door behind her.

"I'd be safer at home, if Courtney was in here," I muttered bitterly.

"Excuse me?" Gail asked, putting my first suitcase on the opposite bed and unzipping it. Unfamiliar clothing spilled out, all things that belonged to Courtney.

I shook my head. "Never mind."

The second nurse opened the door to the bathroom and checked inside. "Your roommate isn't here right now, but I'm sure she'll be back soon. We should do the search right away."

I looked at Gail questioningly.

"What we need you to do, Courtney, is," she started.

"Allison," I interrupted. "My name is Allison."

Shaking her head, she replied, "We only call you by your real name here, honey. We don't deal with anything imaginary, and it's best you learn that now."

I rolled my eyes, turning my head to look out at the driveway and greenery below.

"We need you to go into the bathroom now and remove your clothes," Gail said.

"Wh-what?" I snorted. "Are you serious?"

"We need to make sure you aren't hiding any contraband under your clothing."

"Why would I be hiding any contraband under my clothing?" I exploded. "I wasn't even supposed to COME here today! I'm Allison, NOT Courtney! Allison!" I grabbed the pillow off the bed and threw it at her, backing into the corner against the window. I was terrified. I didn't want anyone touching me. I didn't want them taking my clothes off. I hadn't done anything to deserve that.

Sobs overtook me and I gasped for breath as tears and snot ran down my face. The nurses pushed me into the bathroom. "We need to make sure this is a good experience for you, and for everyone here," one of them said. "We need you to be safe." They helped me out of my pants and shirts, sliding their disgusting hands all over me as they patted me down. The search felt like it lasted for hours, but it was really only a minute or so. The nurses left the bathroom, and I pulled my clothes back on.

I sat down on the cool tile with my back against the shower stall, blowing my nose into a piece of toilet paper as the two of them rummaged through my bags. When they were done, the second nurse left the room, and Gail helped me off the floor and back onto the bed.

"You're going to be assigned to one on one with a therapist. You'll meet once a day at first, but that will gradually decrease the longer you are here."

I nodded, wiping a few stray tears off of my cheeks.

"There's the occasional group therapy session. We have breakfast at nine, lunch at noon, and dinner at six. You have to appear and eat at every meal. Otherwise, you can pretty much do what you want, within reason. You can't have anything sharp. No drugs, tobacco, or alcohol. No outside media. No internet. And no cell phones."

"So when you say I can do whatever, you really mean I can't do anything?" I retorted.

"We have lots of books and movies. And you can feel free to mingle with the other residents as much as you'd like. It'll be good for you to get to know people." Gail started out the door before turning around and adding, "Your schedule is on the nightstand. You will have your first meeting with your new therapist later this afternoon. Until then, you can do whatever you would like. I'm sure your roommate will be back soon, Courtney. Try to have a good day. We just want you to be comfortable."

"Allison," I whispered to her retreated figure. As she disappeared, I got up off the bed and stood to look out the window. I had faith. It wouldn't take long until they figured out how wrong they were. I was Allison, not Courtney. They would all be sorry when they realized their mistake.


	3. What the Hell?

Dr. Foster's office was a stereotypical therapist's office. There was a large red couch on one side, a big black armchair on the other, and a huge desk in the corner. Dr. Foster tapped her pen against her clipboard and asked, "So why do you think you're here, Courtney?"

"I'm not Courtney," I replied, tossing my hair over my shoulder and looking directly into her eyes. "I'm Allison. Courtney is my twin sister. This is all a stupid mistake."

"Is this something that you do a lot?" she prodded.

"What?"

"Pretending to be your sister?" she said in clarification.

I rolled my eyes, biting down on my lip to keep from screaming. The bitter taste of blood landed on my tongue and I wrinkled my nose slightly. "I'm not pretending," I insisted, gritting my teeth. "I'm not Courtney. My parents never could tell us apart. They brought the wrong twin here. She tricked them into thinking that she was me and I was her. I know it sounds crazy. But it's the truth."

Dr. Foster paged through my file before asking, "When you were younger, you pretended to be Allison all the time, right?"

I sighed in exasperation. "No," I answered as if I was talking to a two year old. "I AM Allison." Surely someone was going to understand this sooner or later. There was no way I could be mistaken for Courtney if someone would just listen and pay attention. I was normal. Courtney was the crazy one.

"Did you want to be Allison so much that you tried to kill her?"

"No!" I cried, leaping to my feet. I couldn't take it anymore. "I AM ALLISON! Why would I try to kill myself?"

She laid the clipboard on the arm of her chair and took a deep breath. "Sit down," she said, pointing at the couch.

I crossed my arms in front of my chest. "No."

"Why not?"

"I need someone to believe me. No one believes me."

"Sit down. We can talk about that."

Deflated, I sank back onto the couch.

"So. You think that you're Allison."

"I AM Allison," I corrected.

"If you're the real Allison, then where's Courtney?"

"She's at home. Pretending to be me."

"How do you think that would feel? If everybody thought that you were someone else?"

"I know how it feels. It feels like crap. It feels like CRAP that NO one BELIEVES me."

"Is it scary?" she asked.

I couldn't figure out if she was starting to believe me or if she was just trying to mess with me. "It wasn't at first. I thought everyone would believe me by now. I don't know what I have to do to make you all understand."

"So if it's scary for you…How do you think it feels for Allison when you pretend to be her?"

I burst into tears. "What the hell? I'm not pretending!" I sobbed. "Why don't you believe me? This isn't fair! I'm the good one! I've always been the good one! It's not fair!"

Thrusting a box of Kleenex into my lap, Dr. Foster waited while I tried to get control of myself. I tried to breathe in, but it felt like I wasn't getting any air. Something was sitting on my chest as I gasped again and again, my breaths coming in short bursts with no air actually entering my lungs. Black dots danced across my vision. I clutched the couch cushions, doubling over so that my head was between my knees.

"Courtney," I heard Dr. Foster say from what seemed like very far away. "You're having a panic attack."

I shook my head frantically, clawing at my throat to try and let the air in. I wasn't Courtney. I was Allison. Allison.

Placing a hand over mind, she said, "You're having a panic attack. Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth. Try to slow it down, okay?"

She demonstrated, breathing in for four beats and out for four beats. I tried to copy what I heard her do, but I was dizzy and felt like I was going to get sick.

"You can do it," Dr. Foster said. "In, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four." She squeezed my hand and repeated, "In, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four."

I followed her breathing and was able to sit up straight. Everything in the room was swimming, and the pancakes I had eaten for breakfast were dangerously close to making a reappearance. I took a deep breath, and then several gulps of air, my tears slowing as I was able to breath again.

"Has that ever happened to you before?" she asked, letting go of my hand.

I shook my head, afraid to open my mouth. I swallowed back the gorge in the back of my throat. It almost felt like choking. I didn't want to throw up in front of her.

"Do you know why that happened?"

Coughing a little, I clutched at my stomach and swallowed again, harder this time.

"Are you okay?" she asked, seeming concerned.

I swallowed again, even harder. My breathing got shorter as I tried to keep from getting sick.

"Courtney?" Dr. Foster asked. She got up a sat next to me on the couch, resting a hand on my back. "Courtney?" she asked again, gently.

At the sound of her name, Courtney's name, something inside of me ripped apart. I started to gag so violently that I couldn't swallow it back anymore. Dr. Foster got up and rushed across the room for a small garbage can, making it back a little too late. The contents of my breakfast came up from my stomach and splattered onto the floor. I took the garbage can that she offered me, feeling my cheeks flaming as I threw up again into the trash. Dr. Foster rubbed small circles on my back, pushing my hair back out of my face.

"Hang in there," she said quietly.

I thought that it was over, and I pulled back from the garbage can. But then my stomach heaved again, and I lurched back over the garbage can. My stomach felt like it was up in my throat. Gagging again and again, I threw up until there was nothing more that came up. Even then, I was still shuddering and my stomach was still dry heaving. Dr. Foster held my hair back as tears streamed involuntarily down my cheeks from the pain in my throat.

My stomach seemed to settle some, and I pulled back and put the garbage can on the floor. My forehead was sweaty from the nausea, and I was panting slightly. My cheeks flamed again as I looked at the puddle of vomit on the floor and in the trash can. It was so embarrassing. I wasn't Courtney. I was Allison. Allison DiLaurentis. I should have been able to keep it together.

"Do you feel better?" she asked, still rubbing small circles on my back. That was what my mom used to do when I had the flu, and thinking that only made me feel worse.

My stomach was still a little queasy as I got to my feet, swaying slightly as the black dots filtered across my vision again.

"Careful," Dr. Foster said, jumping to my feet to steady my elbow.

"I want to go back to my room now," I whispered, starting to cry again. I was so embarrassed.

"Okay," she agreed. "Do you want me to help you?"

"No." I opened the door, balancing myself against the frame for a moment before letting it slam shut behind me.

I walked slowly back down the hall towards my room. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know what to say. It was starting to feel like I would never get out of the hospital.


	4. Iris

"Are you Courtney?"

It was some time later when a tall, skinny girl walked into my room and flopped down onto the bed. Looking her up and down, I was struck by her almost eerie resemblance to me.

"Hey," she said, waving a hand in my face, "anyone in there?"

I blinked in frustration and said for what had to be the hundredth time that day, "I'm not Courtney."

A look of confusion washed over her face. "Oh, sorry. I thought…"

Dismissing her with a wave of my hand, I interrupted, "It's okay. It's not your fault."

"It's just that the nurses said," she started again.

"Yeah, that's the thing…" My voice trailed off, and I found myself staring once again out the window at the view below. "You wouldn't believe me either."

"Try me," she snorted. "The people here are batty."

I turned back to her, taking her in again. She was the first person all day who had been almost open to what I had to say. Her green eyes flashed with a spark as she held my gaze, something that I could only identify as the acknowledgement of another popular girl. I saw something in her that reminded me of me, the real me, even though I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was. I figured it was worth a shot. "My name's Allison."

She raised an eyebrow, sitting back on her bed so that she was leaning against the wall. "Okay then."

"Courtney's my sister," I explained.

"You came here for her? Why the hell would you do that? HOW the hell did you do that?"

"It wasn't my idea. She sort of stole my life."

"Oh." Iris leaned forward, picking at a loose thread on her jeans. She wrinkled her nose. "Are you one of those schizos?"

"No!" I cried.

"What then? I don't get it."

"You ask a lot of questions."

She shrugged slightly. "I'm curious I guess. And you seem cool."

"She's my twin," I said.

"Ah."

I couldn't tell if she believed me or not. But after a whole day of trying to to dig myself out of being Courtney, it was starting to not matter as much. I was already losing hope at ever being found. "My parents put her in the Radley after she got so obsessed with being me that she tried to kill me."

"I've heard of that place," Iris replied. "Didn't it close?"

"Yeah. That's why Courtney was supposed to come here. But when they brought her home for the weekend to get her ready to switch hospitals, somehow…I don't know. She just slipped into my life and I ended up here. She fooled everyone."

"Even your parents?" Iris's eyes filled with sympathy.

I got up, walking into the bathroom and standing in front of the mirror. "I don't think they ever could tell us apart." Looking deep into my eyes, I grabbed my long blonde hair and swept it back off of my face with one hand. My face was still heart shaped. My eyes were still blue. The features were still mine. But they were hers too. "Do you have a hair tie?" I asked.

Iris came up behind me and opened the small drawer under the sink, pulling out a black rubber band. I tied my hair back, fastening it into a pretty up do that looked like I had spent hours on it. Beauty. It was still effortless to me. Turning back to Iris, I said, "I've been telling people all day that I'm really Allison. No one believes me though. I guess it's just like something she would do."

"You seem cool. Maybe if you keep insisting…"

"I don't wanna get erased," I whispered.

"Huh?"

Shaking my head, I answered, "Never mind. Isn't it time for dinner?"

Looking at the clock on the nightstand, she nodded and linked her hand with mine. She practically pulled me out of the room. "I can introduce you to all the cool people," she said as we walked down the hall towards where I assumed the cafeteria was. "We definitely have our fair share of the losers. You have to know who's who."

"Definitely," I agreed, even though I wasn't really paying attention. I peered into the different rooms we walked by, checking out the stuff that was inside and imagining who the patients might be.

"Courtney?" someone called from behind us.

I gritted my teeth and felt my hands balling into involuntary fists. Iris stopped a few paces ahead of me, and we both waited for the nurse to catch up. I didn't bother to correct the nurse.

"Dr. Foster wanted me to give you this." She handed me a little paper cup with a pill inside. "It's Valium. It will help you relax."

I took the cup from her, dumping the pill into my mouth and swallowing it without hesitation. Iris and I turned and started walking again without saying anything else to her. "They hand out pills here like candy," I observed quietly.

"It's nice," Iris answered.

We got to the cafeteria, and I found my head was swimming slightly from taking the medication on an empty stomach. Iris flounced off towards the food line, promising to come back with the healthiest and tastiest of the limited cafeteria selection. I leaned back in my chair, taking in the girls that filled the cafeteria. It was just like high school. People seemed to be separated into almost clique like groups. There was a group apart from the rest that had a few girls who were dressed better than everyone else, and an obvious air of cool floated around their table.

Iris struck me as pretty cool herself, almost like we could be friends. It felt like maybe she was the ticket for me to proving to everyone that I was really Allison. She was the one who could help me, because she was the only one who seemed to see who I really was.


End file.
